Being a compendium of what Glenn Ingersoll is thinking and reading and you know whatever.

Friday, March 02, 2012

Thousand: Six Hundred Seventy-Five

of your heels. The girl pokes her finger into the box and waits for a tickle that does not come. It is only the outside of the box that glows, the lid more than the main portion, so she takes the lid off and turns the light to the interior. The white satin glistens back. With two fingers she widens the slit in the satin and tries to look inside. Nothing tiny and black scurrying about. Not that she can see. She holds the lid up, tipping it this way and that to see into the keyhole over her head.